Vantage Points
by sasha1600
Summary: Tony’s in trouble, surrounded by trees. Warning: spanking of adult. Don’t like? Don’t read!
1. Chapter 1

**Vantage Points**

**Summary**: Tony's in trouble, surrounded by trees. **Warning**: spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em.

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**Warning: this story contains the non-sexual spanking of an adult. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.**

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A/N: This is part of my discipline series. I think it makes sense on its own, but it does build on a larger plot arc developed in my other stories. This takes place sometime after Blowback and before Cover Story, but there's no tag to a specific episode for the events in this story.

Thanks to draggon-flye for the suggestion of a reason for the team to be in the middle of a forest, and to alli1 for the nudge to deal with the 'sibling rivalry' between Tim and Tony again.

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It has been one of those days. A missing child is always a tough case to work. A young Marine dependant missing in a national forest is even worse, since it means dealing with the jurisdictional pissing-contest with the FBI and the park rangers over who gets to be in control of the search. Gibbs has been insufferable all day, and Tony has been taking his frustration with the boss out on me, as usual.

The only thing that could make matters any worse would be poison ivy, which I've thankfully been able to avoid. So far. I'd touch wood, but getting that close to a tree would mean leaving the safety of this nice, poison ivy-free path.

I almost got to be the one who solved the problem of the missing child. Bethany's hysterical mother mentioned that the little girl wasn't answering her cell phone. Once I managed to deal with Gibbs's reaction to a five-year-old _having_ a cell phone, I was able to trace her location using the GPS chip in the phone.

Or, that was the plan, anyway. We arrived to find the phone sitting by itself in the middle of a small clearing, no child in sight. There were, however, rabbit prints mixed in with the small running-shoe patterns, which suggested that Bethany had simply wandered off in pursuit of Thumper rather than something more sinister having happened.

But it's still a big forest, and nightfall isn't that far off.

Gibbs smacked me across the back of the head and complained that the goal was to find the child, not her phone. Then he took off to do some fancy Marine thing, following a trail that none of the rest of us could even see, and leaving Tony and me lagging along behind, hoping desperately not to get lost ourselves. Even Ducky, who is with us because having a doctor around might be a good thing when we find Bethany, is somehow able to keep up with Gibbs better than we are, which is frankly embarrassing.

Eventually we stopped zigzagging through the woods and we've been following this path for the last fifteen minutes; our best guess is that Bethany got tired of chasing bunnies, realised she was lost, and took the first real path she came to.

Hopefully she got tired, or scared, and sat down somewhere. Yeah, I know... it doesn't sound that great to be hoping that a little kid is huddled somewhere crying... but if she is still moving, it will be that much harder to find her. If she's curled up under a tree, we should be able to catch up to her before she's in worse shape than just being cold and hungry.

Tony is still tormenting me, telling me that I'm breathing too heavily, just trying to keep up... as if he's doing that much better than me, following Gibbs.

And he's told me a couple of times that it's my fault that Gibbs is even more short-tempered now than he was before my idea about the phone didn't work... or, at least, not as well as I'd hoped it would. We did find Bethany's trail, after all. So it wasn't a complete waste of time. We'd just all gotten our hopes up too much. And that's not really my fault, is it?

I swear, one of these days, I'm going to really lose my temper with Tony, and take a swing at him just to shut him up. I know that it's a reaction to stress... he tries to lighten the tension by being funny, and his idea of funny is to pick on me. But that doesn't really make it all that much easier to deal with. I'm not a violent person, but after a lifetime of being the target of schoolyard bullies, there are days when I really don't know how much more of this shit I can take. Sometimes I think it's only my fear of how Gibbs would react to one agent actually _hitting_ another that keeps me from snapping.

There's a clearing up ahead, and I think I see water. I push my exhaustion to the back of my mind and try to pick up my speed, trying not to think about Bethany getting too close to the lake and...

No, it must be ok, because Gibbs and Ducky are looking around the clearing and not totally freaking out. I stumble into the open area, breathing heavily.

'Decided to join us, Probie?'

That's rich, coming from Tony. He got here maybe thirty seconds ahead of me, and he's acting like I'm lagging soooooo far behind the rest of the team.

I can see Gibbs shooting a dark look at him, but Tony doesn't see it and I don't take very much comfort from knowing that our boss knows that I can't really keep up. I know I'm being irrational... I contribute in lots of ways... it's just that the physical parts of the job aren't really my strongest points. It's not like Tony could manage any of the technical stuff that I'm actually good at. Or Gibbs, for that matter.

But the logical part of my brain isn't really winning this battle right now, and I think I'll just feel inadequate for a while longer, thanks.

Suddenly, Tony takes a step towards me, a strange grin on his face. I step backwards instinctively. He keeps coming, and I have no idea what he's planning to do to me but I'm sure it's one of his frat-boy 'jokes'.

I hate it when he's in this mood... Gibbs snapped at him earlier, so he's trying to make up for his own bruised ego by acting superior to me. Gibbs once referred to the dynamic between us as sibling rivalry, and I guess I can see that... sort of. Tony's acting like a big brother tormenting a younger sibling. But none of that means I _like_ having to put up with this shit from him.

I take another step backwards, trying to get away from him before he can shove me onto my ass, 'accidentally', of course. Probably right into goddamn poison ivy.

Suddenly I'm not on the path anymore, and I feel myself sinking into deep, oozing mud. A foul odour rises around me, and I see Tony backing up quickly, putting greater distance between us. There's a droning buzz that I can't identify for a moment. Then, horrified, I realize that a cloud of yellowjackets is swirling around me.

Some instinct I didn't know I had has me covering my face with my hands. I feel a couple of stings... on my hands... my neck... I'm wearing long sleeves, and I have my jeans tucked into my hiking boots, a fact for which I'm now rather grateful even though Tony was teasing me about it earlier... my ear... I can hear Gibbs shouting something... at me? ...but I can't make out the words...

Suddenly there's a hand on my arm, dragging me backwards. I can't see anything... I'm still covering my face, and my eyes are screwed shut, and there isn't anything in this world that's going to make me change that... I stumble... and I'm still being propelled backwards... and now I'm falling...

It's wet. And very cold.

I realise that I'm in water just as I'm shoved under the surface. I start to choke and, panicked, try to get my head out of the water so I can breathe. I barely get air into my lungs and I'm pulled back... I'm really starting to freak out now, as I realise that someone is deliberately holding me under water. My eyes fly open and I stop clutching at my face and start trying to fight off my attacker. Suddenly there's another hand on my face, turning me to look at... Gibbs? I don't understand...

Gibbs holds up three fingers, then takes one away, then another...

And suddenly I'm above water again, and I can breathe... but only for a fraction of a second and then Gibbs is pulling me back under again.

I'm a bit calmer now. I trust Gibbs completely... I've charged into buildings on his order, been shot at at his side... I've even let him hold me down and whip me when I screwed up. If he wants me to stay in this murky, freezing lake with him, then I'll do it... at least until I pass out from the lack of oxygen... even if I don't have the faintest idea why he's chosen now to test me on my... what is he testing, anyway? I'm just so confused...

I feel his strong hand pulling at me again, and realise that he's half-dragging me out of the water. I'm shivering from the cold, and the stings are really starting to hurt, and I feel a bit dizzy. I stumble, almost pulling Gibbs to the ground with me before he gets me under the arms.

I hear a voice that I dimly recognise, and realise that Ducky is taking me from Gibbs and checking my pulse and telling me to open my eyes. I try to do as he's telling me, but I can't and I don't know why. I hear a distant thudding noise that I know I should be able to identify, but it's just too much work to try to...

X X X

...how much time has passed? I'm not sure what's happening... there are voices I don't recognise, and the thudding is louder now and the clearing is shaking...

X X X

No, it's not the clearing that's shaking. I'm in a helicopter. Ducky must have called for help while Gibbs was trying to drown me. It's going to be ok now, and I can just go to slee...


	2. Chapter 2

I shove the memory of McGee lying in his hospital bed to the back of my mind as I stride toward the cabin they've given my team as a cross between a command post and barracks. I didn't want to leave him, but the doctor told me that, with the meds they've given him, he won't wake up until the morning at the earliest, and when I checked in with Ducky, there was still a missing child to find. Turns out that the little girl was found safe while I was on my way back here. So, I'll head back to the hospital and be there when Tim comes 'round. He shouldn't wake up alone.

I just have one thing to take care of first.

I know why Ducky insisted on me going to the hospital in the first place. The couple of stings I got grabbing McGee weren't serious enough to need more than basic first-aid. And that crap about the risk of hypothermia, and the water being polluted, was... crap.

But it was a good excuse to go with McGee, and make sure that he was gonna be alright. Ducky knows me well enough to know how concerned I was about him, and how much my instincts were telling me to go with him. I'm pretty sure that Tim hasn't figured out yet that I feel as strongly about him as I do about Tony, but Ducky definitely has.

But my old friend also knows how strongly I feel a sense of duty, of obligation to finish the job before allowing more personal concerns to control my actions. Especially when it's something like a missing child. He knew there was no way I'd get into that helicopter, however much I wanted to, unless he pulled rank as the medical officer on-site and ordered me to get my so-called injuries seen to.

And it looks like Tim's going to be fine. They want to keep him overnight to make sure that the what-ever-it-was they gave him to what's-it the venom has done whatever it was supposed to... yeah, Ducky's gonna be pissed that I didn't exactly absorb what that doctor was trying to tell me... and they gave him some pretty strong stuff to get him to sleep and let his body start to heal itself... _that_ much I understood.

But he wasn't actually stung as often as we'd feared. The damn yellowjackets weren't able to do too much damage before I got him into the lake, where I knew they wouldn't follow. They swarmed around above us for a few minutes, but I managed to hold McGee underwater long enough for them to lose interest and leave. I don't think Tim understood why I had him in the water, though, and he damn near broke my hand fighting with me at one point. I'm going to have to have a little chat with him sometime about basic wilderness survival.

And Ducky was definitely trying to get me away from Tony for a couple of hours, when he packed me into the chopper with Tim. Of course I wouldn't actually punish him while I was still so angry – and I was enough in control for that not to be a concern – but I probably would have said something I'd regret later.

Oh, I know he didn't expect anything like that to happen, and he certainly didn't mean for Tim to be seriously hurt. But that's most of the problem with Tony; he doesn't consider the possible consequences of his actions before he does something idiotic. I've told him off more times than I can count for tormenting Tim, and I've spanked him for a couple of stunts that have gone too far.

And he has been acting more responsibly lately. Which is a good thing, because I've been reluctant to punish him while Jenny's got him working on that op that I'm not supposed to know didn't end with that fiasco in Quebec, in case not being able to sit down without wincing blows his cover. And I know he's got a girlfriend he's actually serious about for the first time in his life; I've been letting the little things slide to spare him the embarrassment of having to explain a reddened backside.

But he's definitely in for a whipping now. Even if he didn't expect the yellowjackets, he was still trying to shove his team mate into poison ivy. And he sure as hell knows that I'm not going to ignore something like that.

I push open the door. Tony jumps to his feet. He's obviously been sitting on his bunk, waiting for me. From the look on his face, he knows what's gonna happen next.

'Is McGee alright, Boss?'

I bite back the 'no thanks to you'. Tony doesn't react well to a heavy-handed guilt trip, especially once he's admitted that he screwed up. What he needs now is reassurance that the consequences of his actions aren't going to be as terrible as he's been thinking they would be, followed by the punishment he's expecting. I know how hard it is having to wait for a spanking; that's why I want to deal with him before I head back to the hospital. And he needs to know that I'm not giving up on him.

'He will be. They're keeping him overnight, but they say he'll be fine.'

'Good. Uh... Boss... I'm really sorry... I didn't know...'

'I know. But you know better than to mess with McGee like that even if there isn't a wasps' nest involved.'

'I know... I shouldn'ta...'

Tony trails off, and I know he's embarrassed about putting his actions into words. I give him a hard look, waiting until he stops shuffling his feet and raises his eyes to meet mine.

'C'mon.'

I motion him towards the room's only table; there's not really anywhere else to put him. Tony visibly swallows and looks at me with a determined expression, looking more frightened than he usually is before a spanking.

'You want me to go cut a switch, Boss?'

The question catches me completely off guard. I'm suddenly furious, and saddened, that he thinks I would do that to him, that I would break my promise to him not to use a switch on him again. He should know me better than that. Even without the unusual relationship between us, the fact that no Marine would treat a team member like that should be enough for him. It can only be his screwed-up childhood that makes him unable to really believe that I meant it when I said I wouldn't force him to endure a punishment that he found traumatic.

And then it occurs to me that his question also reveals how much he actually does trust me, how completely he accepts my authority. He's willing to accept a switching from me, despite the painful memories it evokes and despite the severe physical pain involved. He's petrified by the prospect, but there's no doubt in my mind that he'd obey without hesitation if I ordered him to cut a switch.

'Why the hell would you think that, DiNozzo?'

'Well, the last time I almost killed McGee, you... uh...'

'I remember that, Tony. I also remember you coming to me and asking me not to do that again. And I remember telling you that I wouldn't.'

'Uh, yeah, but...'

'So why on Earth would you think that something's changed since that conversation?'

'Because I really screwed up this time?'

He says that like it's obvious.

'Yes, you did. And I'm going to whip you for it. But I didn't tell you that I wouldn't take a switch to you unless you did something worse than usual. I said I wouldn't use a switch. Period. That hasn't changed, Tony. And it won't change. That's not how this works. Not with me. I thought you knew that.'

He looks at me sheepishly, not answering.

'C'mon. Get over here.'

He moves towards the table, still looking nervous. Actually, he still looks terrified. More than he should, really. What the hell is going on with him tonight?

I grab my hold-all from the floor beneath my bed and detach the leather shoulder strap at both ends. I double it over, holding both metal clips firmly in my hand.

Tony seems to relax a bit and bends over, holding on tightly to the table.

I take a good look at him, trying to figure out what's got him so spooked and whether he needs me to put this on hold, or find some other way of dealing with him. He seems apprehensive, which is reasonable enough, but he's definitely calmer now. I still don't know what the problem was, but I'm confident that he's ready to do this.

And stopping now is just gonna make him start freaking out about me not caring enough about him to discipline him.

Not for the first time, I wish I could have just five minutes alone with the man who did such a spectacular job of screwing with my senior field agent's head.

I position my left hand between his shoulder blades, letting him know that I don't expect him to stay in position on his own. This is going to be a hard whipping, and holding him down is far kinder than making him find the willpower to just stay put.

I bring the strap down hard on his ass, just above the thighs where it hurts like hell and where he'll feel it most when he sits down. Tony twitches and grunts. I direct the next lash at the same spot. And the next. I hate watching him struggling to cope with pain that I've caused him, but I know it's the best way to deal with his misbehaviour. Tony needs to be able to forgive himself, and for that he has to believe that I've punished him enough wipe the slate clean.

I continue raining hard strokes down on him, still focusing my attention on a small area of particularly sensitive flesh that I know must be beet-red and throbbing by now. He's sobbing into his crossed arms, reacting to his own emotions as much as to the exceptionally severe spanking I'm giving him. I give him a final two lashes then keep my hand on his back until he's caught his breath.

'I'm not giving up on you, Tony. It'll be a lot easier for you if you stop asking me to prove it.'

He nods, and sniffles a bit. I toss him a pack of tissues, and turn back to my bunk and replace the strap on my bag.

'I'm heading back to the hospital. You want to come?'

I can see that he's torn.

'McGee's probably going to sleep through the night; they've got him pretty doped up.'

He nods again, and turns towards his own bed. He tells me that he'll talk to McGee once he wakes up, and that he should probably get some sleep since I'm going to be up all night. He doesn't actually say that he is relieved by the excuse not to spend the night on a hard hospital chair, but I know that's more of a practical concern for him at the moment than the need for at least one member of the team to be rested and functional in the morning. That's ok; I know he's really hurting.

I nod in return, and head for the door, glancing back over my shoulder to see him stretching out face-down. I pause for a moment, my hand on the handle, before leaving one 'son' to check on another.


	3. Chapter 3

I watch in horror as McGee stumbles backwards and comes to a stop with his right foot embedded in a wasps' nest. There's a moment when time seems to stop. Then Gibbs grabs him and drags him into the water, and Ducky drags me to the other side of the clearing, even though the wasps seem to know that it's McGee who just pissed them off and they're pretty much leaving us alone.

Then we can only watch in horrified anticipation, waiting for it to be safe to find out just how badly he's hurt.

This isn't what I planned at all. I just wanted to have a little fun with the probie, get him a little muddy, maybe a bit itchy. Not attacked by an entire swarm of wasps.

I just wanted to make sure that Gibbs remembers that I'm the one who's actually useful as a _field_ agent. I'm getting so sick of McGee always being the one who pulls off some technical miracle, and now he's a rich and sorta-famous author on top of everything else... and Gibbs is being nice to him, and calling him Tim, and 'Elf-Lord'... why does McGee get to have a pet name? Gibbs has never called me anything other than my name, ever... I didn't even get to be Probie or Newbie or anything like that, when I was... and McGee doesn't even appreciate being 'adopted' by Gibbs... he's taking over my place, and I'm not sure he even knows it! Anyway, I thought that maybe if Gibbs had to put up with McGee's whining and obvious incompetence outside of a computer room, maybe he'd... I don't know...

I hear Ducky calling for a medevac helicopter and wonder how he's managing to function when I'm just rooted to the spot. Finally Gibbs and McGee emerge, and it isn't long before they're both loaded into the chopper. Ducky dabs something on the single sting that I haven't even noticed and I take charge of the search for Bethany. A few hours later I stumble back into our 'command post' and report that the little girl has been found, and hear in return that Gibbs is on his way back.

I'm absolutely terrified. This is just about the worst thing I've ever done, and I know that Gibbs is going to whip me harder than he ever has before. And I'm sure he's going to use a switch to do it.

Sure, he promised me once that he wouldn't do that again, when I lied to him and told him that I was too emotionally scarred by a childhood experience to be able to cope with it. But that was before I almost killed McGee by being an idiot. Again. There's no way he's not going to change his mind about the switch thing.

Besides, the whole story about the childhood switch incident was one big lie. Not that there was ever a story, exactly... but the carefully designed hints definitely made him think that there _was_ a story. Even if Gibbs kept his promise, taking advantage of that would be like lying to him all over again. So it's probably a good thing that he's gonna tell me to go cut a switch anyway, 'cuz I'm not sure I can handle telling him that there's no reason not to.

So, I wait, in agonised anticipation of something I don't think I can endure.

When Gibbs finally returns, I ask after McGee, and am relieved to hear that he's going to be ok. I don't think I could stand it if I actually caused any permanent harm to him. Thank goodness he's not as allergic to beestings as he is to poison ivy.

I take a deep breath, waiting for him to give me the dreaded order. Finally I force myself to just say it, to ask if I should go cut a switch.

The look on Gibbs's face makes me instantly regret it. I've never seen him look so angry. And... is that sadness? And now he's talking about how offended he is that I suggested that he wouldn't honour his commitment not to use a switch on me.

Ok, yeah... I should have seen that coming. The whole Marine honour thing. Of course, now I feel even worse, since Gibbs is being all honourable and I'm still basically lying to him.

'Why the hell would you think that, DiNozzo?'

'Well, the last time I almost killed McGee, you... uh...'

'I remember that, Tony. I also remember you coming to me and asking me not to do that again. And I remember telling you that I wouldn't.'

'Uh, yeah, but...'

'So why on Earth would you think that something's changed since that conversation?'

_Because you haven't spanked me for months, not even when you found out about me lying to you about Jenny's _La Grenouille_ op, and I'm not sure you've really forgiven me for betraying your trust like that? Not to mention my betraying your trust by lying to you about the switch thing in the first place? So how the hell am I supposed to expect you to keep your word to me? Now? Especially when you clearly don't give a rat's ass what I do, unless it affects your precious Timmy?_

_Of course, that's a good thing, considering that the undercover work isn't over, like you think it is. 'Sorry, Boss, but you can't spank me because you'll make it really hard for me to maintain my cover in the undercover op that I'm still not allowed to tell you about, even though you know part of it, because I can't really explain to my target/girlfriend that I got spanked by the boss that she doesn't think I have at a job that isn't what she thinks I do for a living...' Like that's a conversation I want to have with you! Thank God Jeanne's at a conference this weekend... with any luck, most of the marks will be gone before she gets back and the remaining bruises can be explained by me being a klutz..._

'Because I really screwed up this time?'

'Yes, you did. And I'm going to whip you for it. But I didn't tell you that I wouldn't take a switch to you unless you did something worse than usual. I said I wouldn't use a switch. Period. That hasn't changed, Tony. And it won't change. That's not how this works. Not with me. I thought you knew that.'

_Yeah, well, maybe... I did... I'm not so sure I do anymore..._

'C'mon. Get over here.'

It suddenly occurs to me that, if he's not going to use a switch, he's gotta be planning to use his belt. I mean, really... we're in the middle of a goddamn forest, and I don't think he's got the strap or the paddle in his overnight bag. It's not like there's a lot of other options around.

I guess there's some kind of justice in the fact that lying about having a problem with switches is gonna get me whipped with a belt, which is the only thing I actually _do_ have a problem with. Well, not so much being whipped with a belt... it's more about the sound it makes when it's snatched off. Freaks me out every time. Ducky would probably go into some long, drawn-out explanation of PTSD or something.

And now, when I'm already having trouble figuring out where exactly I stand with the boss... a year ago, before that frickin' bomb and the whole Mexico thing, and before the frickin' Frog assignment, I probably could have gotten through this without having a panic attack. But now? I'm not so sure.

But this isn't exactly the time to tell him any of that.

I start towards the table, hoping that I don't look as freaked-out as I feel right now.

Gibbs surprises the hell out of me by not reaching for his belt. Instead, he takes the shoulder-strap off of his over-night bag. It's basically the same thing as a belt, but it doesn't have any of the associations that I'm worried about.

I feel myself start to relax, and I get myself into position. I'm under no illusions that this isn't going to be truly awful, but I can handle physical pain. It's a bit disconcerting that Gibbs has doubled over the shoulder-strap... that can't be good... but the clippy-things on the ends probably don't come off so I guess that's the only option.

Ok, can we get this over with? Why is Gibbs looking at me that way? Is he thinking about not doing this? That I'm too much trouble? That it's about time I move on to my next job? This is a new record for me... almost six years. I wonder if Fornell likes me this week?

Gibbs puts his hand on my back, and I know it's going to be really bad if he's already holding me down. I try to take a deep breath but my lungs don't seem to be working right now.

Even though I know it's coming, the first lash still catches me by surprise. Fuck, that hurt. My whole body jerks in response to the pain, and I don't quite manage to keep quiet about it. Oh, fuck... the bastard is putting all the strokes right on the same spot, and he knows exactly where it hurts the most.

It's not long before I'm openly crying. And it's not just the pain. I know how badly I fucked up, and I hate that I let Gibbs down enough that he thinks that this is what I deserve. However much I pretend to myself that I don't care, his opinion of me really does matter to me. A lot. And if he writes me off because I keep fucking up like this, I don't know what I'll do.

The whipping finally stops, but I don't move. It takes a while before I realise that I can't move anyway, because Gibbs still has his hand on my back. What the...?

'I'm not giving up on you, Tony. It'll be a lot easier for you if you stop asking me to prove it.'

That just does me in. I've just about pulled myself together, and he goes and says something like that... I didn't realise... I thought... oh, fuck!

I'm going to start bawling like a baby if he makes me talk to him about it. I nod and try desperately not to cry again.

Gibbs throws me some tissue and goes over to put the strap back on his bag. I'm grateful for the relative privacy as I wipe my eyes and blow my nose.

'I'm heading back to the hospital. You want to come?'

Oh, shit! If I don't go, he's going to think I'm a horrible human being for not being there for McGee, especially when I'm the reason why he's in the hospital in the first place. But I'm exhausted, and my ass hurts, and the last thing I want to do right now is hang around some hospital room until I either collapse or give in and sit down.

'McGee's probably going to sleep through the night; they've got him pretty doped up.'

Ok, that works. That's my out. There's no point me being there, if McGee isn't going to know I'm there, right? And if Gibbs is gonna be up all night, and McGee's drugged to the gills, I'm gonna have to drive the truck back, right? So I really should get some sleep... it's a question of public safety, after all... can't have that big ol' truck forcing some unsuspecting civilian off the road 'cuz I fall asleep at the wheel. Right?

I nod, and tell him that I should probably get some kip so one of us is alert enough to get us back to DC in one piece. Gibbs gets that look on his face that says he sees right through me, but he doesn't call me on it. He goes off to take care of Tim, and I head for bed.

I stretch myself out on the pathetic cot that passes for a bed around here – on my stomach, of course – and try to make sense of what's just happened.

So, Gibbs still thinks we've got some kind of father/son thing going... and he thinks that I was acting out today because I wanted him to prove it... which I guess I sorta was... but then why has he been letting me get away with shit that he never would've before?

And him actually respecting what he thinks is my deep-rooted fear of switches? When I've actually done something bad enough for him to be completely justified using one? And they're readily available just outside? I've been feeling guilty about that lie again ever since I told McGee about it after Gibbs spanked him... now I feel worse than ever, and I definitely can't tell Gibbs that I lied... not now that I've actually benefitted from that lie. He'll absolutely kill me... and if he's not already trying to put an end to the 'dad' thing, he certainly would then!

And it seems I'm supposed to not be threatened by the fact that McGee's apparently going to be included in Gibbs's paternal affections... which makes this, what, sibling rivalry? C'mon... I'm an only child... I don't share... not that I've ever had a father to worry about sharing before...

Oh, fuck it... I'm too tired to deal with this. I'm just going to go to slee...


End file.
